


You're Home (Once More)

by lissaline



Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Family, Frollo isn't really in it just his voice, Gen, Quasimodo/Esmeralda/Clopin friendship, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:44:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8892916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lissaline/pseuds/lissaline
Summary: Quasimodo finds out that family is what you make it





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Airheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airheart/gifts).



   It wasn’t until later, when the sun had started to set and the crowds had disappeared into their homes and the streets were quiet, that Quasimodo realized he didn’t know where to go.

   Pausing in the street, he put a hand to his cheek, imagining he could still feel the warmth of the little girl’s touch. She had looked at him and touched him and she wasn’t afraid. It was as if he wasn’t anything frightening to look at. He couldn’t understand it.

   He knew now that Frollo was wrong about Esmeralda. He had called her a witch, an abomination, but there was nothing evil about her. She had saved him. She had told him that he wasn’t a monster.

   Frollo was gone now, and Esmeralda was safe, and the world seemed brighter than it had before. But still, surely he couldn’t expect that everyone would be like Esmeralda, or the little girl. True, the crowd had held him up and cheered for him, but hadn’t they done that before? All it took was a single moment for everyone to remember, to treat him like the monster he really was. Or, that he thought he was.

   No. He was a monster. He must have been. He had known it all his life. If he wasn’t a monster, then maybe the first letter in the alphabet wasn’t A and the sun didn’t rise in the east.

   Quasi stopped suddenly and shook his head, as though to shake the thoughts out onto the cobble stone. Looking up, he realized that during his reverie his feet had taken him back to the cathedral. Or, what was left of it.

   He stepped forward, placing a hand on the splintered door, and felt a sort of aching in his chest.

   “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the crumbling building. The only home he had ever known, and he had nearly destroyed it.

    _Well what did you expect, boy? A monster doesn’t have a home._

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself now.” Quasi muttered to himself as he made his way up the staircase. He could fix everything up again. Maybe it wouldn’t be the same as it was, but it would work. He could make it work.

   Besides, he shouldn’t be feeling anything but happiness right now. Esmeralda and Pheobus had each other, and he had helped bring them together. And whenever he started to miss them, he could think about the life they were leading together, somewhere safe and peaceful.

   Just as he was starting up the final flight of stairs, Quasi heard the faint sound of voices coming from the bell tower. He froze, cursing himself for not coming in through a window, where he may not have been detected. His back was beginning to smart though, and he wasn’t sure he would have been able to scale the building.

   Quasi took a deep breath and stepped onto the first stair, planning to hide outside the door and listen to the voices, try to figure out who was up there. As soon as he set his weight on it though, the step let out an awful, ghostly creak. Quasi stopped short at the same time the voices above did. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for whatever terrible fate awaited him.

   “Quasi? Is that you?”

   He opened his eyes and peered up into the dimly lit staircase.

   “Esmeralda?”

   “What are you doing down there? We’ve been waiting for you.”

 

* * *

 

   Quasi knew, logically, that he had nothing to fear from the Court of Miracles now that Esmeralda was with him. But he hesitated at the entrance nonetheless.

   “It’s alright. They’re good people, you don’t need to be scared,” Esmeralda put a steadying hand on his back. Her hand brushed against the hump before settling beside it. Quasi pushed down a flinch.

   Pheobus scoffed from where he was descending the stairs behind them. “Considering our last visit here, can you blame him?”

   “They thought you were spies. They were just protecting their home.”

   “And we’d do it again, _captain_ ,” came a voice from the bottom of the staircase. Quasi jumped, and Esmeralda turned to smirk at him in the dim light.

   “Always a flare for the dramatic, Clopin.”

   “What good is it living in the catacombs if you can’t use them for their drama now and then?”

   Now that they were closer, Quasi could see the jester leaning against the wall. He was different from how he had ever seen him before, the brightly colored costume traded for a simple tunic and soft pants. As soon as the trio arrived at the bottom step, Clopin was stepping forward and pulling Esmeralda into his arms.

   “I’m sorry, miri kushti pen, I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”

   “Mire pral, there was nothing you could have done. Besides, all is well now.”

   “Yes, thanks to your new friends. You always did have unusual taste.”

   Quasi had done his best to fade into the shadows during this exchange. Clopin caught sight of him, though, and took a step towards him.

   “Well, well. Quasimodo.”

   “I – I’m sorry,” he stuttered, beginning to step backwards towards the stairs. Why did he think he would be welcome here? “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

   But before he could alight the first step, Clopin was in front of him and taking his hand in his.

   “Nonsense,” Clopin’s voice was soft and close. “I always admit when I’m wrong, bell ringer. And I was wrong about you. In fact, I must say I admire you. It can’t have been easy to defy Frollo the way you did.”

   Quasi didn’t know what to say to this, so he stayed silent. He felt his cheeks flush.

   “Come. I have something to show you.”

   The Court of Miracles looked completely different to Quasi, now that he knew – or hoped – that he didn’t have to fear for his life. What was sinister and daunting only a few nights before now seemed to hold an inexorable joy and vivacity. Every brick and cloth around him was vibrant and alive. He couldn’t breathe it all in.

   “It’s alright, bell ringer. We only hang our guests once.”

   Quasi startled at Clopin’s voice close to his side. He hadn’t realized he had stopped at the entrance to the hall, awestruck. He closed his mouth quickly, embarrassed.

   Quasi met Clopin’s gaze, and watched it soften as he took in whatever expression was on his face.

   “It’s just a little further.”

   The door Clopin ushered him through was hidden behind a beautifully woven blue cloth, and led into a room which was significantly smaller than the one they had left, but no less breathtaking.

   It took Quasi a moment to remember they were underground, because despite having no windows, the room was filled with a warm light. It shone through the gauzy scarves draped along the walls and bathed the nest of soft looking pillows and intricate quilts in the middle of the room. The room wasn’t tidy by any standard – certainly not by Frollo’s standard – but it was as if every item, every trinket and book and stone, had been placed in their haphazard arrangement with the utmost care.

   “Why – Clopin. These are your rooms? I’ve never – I’ve never seen anything like it.”

   Clopin didn’t say anything, only quirked his lips in a smile and wandered further into the small room.

   “What,” Quasi stopped and cleared his throat, suddenly feeling inexplicably emotional. “What was it that you wanted to show me?”

   “Ah! Yes. Nothing that can’t wait. In fact, I’ve just remembered that I must speak with Esmeralda about something. Why don’t you wait here? Make yourself at home.”

   “Oh, I couldn’t…Wait, Clopin….!” Quasi turned to follow him out of the room, but he was already gone.

   He shook his head, and before he knew it he had sank down into the makeshift bed. Exhaustion fell upon him thickly and suddenly. To say the day had been long wouldn’t begin to explain. Long, and confusing, and maybe one of the best he had ever had.

   A frisson of guilt shot through him at the thought, accompanied by the familiar voice: _How long did you wait after watching me die before celebrating? Ungrateful abomination...deformed beast…_

   Quasi’s hand brushed against something in the blankets beside him, and he jumped, the voice vanishing suddenly. Picking the object up and holding it close to his face, he saw that it was a block of dark wood, with a small piece of paper pinned to its side. On the paper, a note scrawled in cramped print:

    _To start a new collection in a new home._

   “Well, what do you think?”

   Quasi looked up to find Esmeralda leaning in the doorway.

   “What do I – Esmeralda, I don’t understand.”

   “There’s nothing to understand,” Esmeralda sat down close to Quasi and took the piece of wood from him, running her fingers over the grain. “We want you to stay here with us. We want to be your family. That is, if you’ll have us.”

   Quasi stared down at his hands. _No monster lines._ They suddenly blurred in front of him. Before he had a chance to blink the tears away, a warm hand was brushing against his cheek. Quasi leaned into Esmeralda’s touch.

   “I don’t know what to say,” he said finally. “I don’t deserve this. All of this…”

   “Quasimodo,” Esmeralda’s voice was firm, and her hand on his cheek forced him to meet her gaze. “You have no idea what you’ve done for me, for my family. It’s us who don’t deserve you.”

 

* * *

 

   Lying in the nest of pillows later that night, on the edge of sleep, Quasi listened to the bursts of voices and laughter that floated into him every now and then from the main hall. He couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so warm. He closed his eyes, and dreamed. Not of disapproving voices and monsters in the mirror, but of a woman’s face. She smiled down at him, saying, _Go to sleep_ , _muro shavo,_ _go to sleep, all is well._

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide Airheart! I hope this is kind of what you were looking for :) 
> 
> Title from Welcome Home by Peters & Lee because I just watched that TMobile commercial again. 
> 
> I'm so sorry if the Romani is incorrect, I have no experience with the language, feel free to correct me! But from what google tells me, here are the translations:
> 
> Miri kushti pen = my dear sister
> 
> Mire pral = my brother
> 
> Muro shavo = my son
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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